Sins of the Fathers
by Dot
Summary: Fourteen years after an event that altered destiny, the past returns to haunt Clark Kent and his son in the form of a crashing car and a business mogul's heir. But is it coincidence that has Lex and Lee Luthor in Smallville? Or something else?
1. Prologue

Sins of the Fathers

Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville. I don't own Clark or Lex… Man, this is depressing. Property of DC Comics and the WB, etc etc. This story is AU after Promise, with hints of changes before that. You might also recognize certain plot points from a certain comic book storyline… But this story is independent from them, I just stole the idea. This is my first fic in this fandom, so please R&R!

Prologue:

_Smallville- June 21st, 2009_

"You're telling me that there's nothing? No security footage, no fingerprints, nothing?"

"Mr. Luthor, sir…" Charles Martin, head of security for Lex Luthor for less than seventy-two hours, knew he was going to be fired before three days became four. "It can't be explained. All that comes up from the hall cameras are blurs, and the cameras in the lab were completely fried."

"Blurs. Fired cameras. It's a million dollar system, Martin, for that wing alone!"

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Luthor."

"Sorry. Millions of dollars, an entire wing of my lab, years of research…" Lex took a drink of scotch. "Get out."

Martin took a breath and left. As soon as the door closed behind him, Lex's tumbler smashed against the wood, and the sound of shattering glass filled the room.

"Damn it!"

Lex raised a shaking hand, ran it over his head. He grabbed a botto of Ty Nant, took a long drink, and sat down in his desk chair to watch the blurs from the hallway.

No matter how much he slowed the tape down, he couldn't see more than a reddish blur, vaguely man-shaped, but really just a blur. He took another drink of his water.

His study door squeaked, and the sound of shoes crunching on glass roused Lex from his viewing. He looked up and offered a small smile. "Lana."

Lana smiled back and said quietly, "Julian will be walking around soon enough. You should be careful of glass."

It was a good day. Lex could tell. Only on good days was Lana coherent enough to worry about her son. "I'll have someone get it right away."

Lana took a step toward the glass herself and Lex was on his feet before he'd even decided, consciously, to move. He grabbed her hands, smoothing his hands over hers. "Let someone else get it, Lana."

She jerked away. "What you think I'll hurt myself?"

Her words hung heavy in the air. Lex reminded himself that on good days, Lana was often angry. "I don't want you to cut yourself."

"No more scars for the Luthor bride?" she snapped and held up her arms. Her loose sleeves fluttered and dipped down to her elbows, exposing smooth skin, marred only by twin vertical lines on either arm, jagged and white.

"No more scars for you, Lana," he said gently, but the care had left his voice. His mind was back on the lab beneath the dam. How in the world had someone gotten in…

Lana remained in the room for a few more minutes. Lex waited until she was gone, then swept up the mess himself, and dropped it into the wastebasket. A piece of glass nicked his hand. Lex stared as the blood welled up, marveling at the things blood could do.

A smile crossed his face briefly as he restarted the security tape. If he was right—which he always was— the color of that red blur was the same color as the jacket Clark Kent had been wearing when he had confronted Lex that very day about various and sundry misdeeds.

"Getting sloppy, Clark," he whispered to the screen. No doubt in a few days, there would be a new arrival at the Kent household— and really what could Lex do about it? The lab itself wasn't supposed to exist, and the experiments conducted there were highly illegal. He couldn't very well call the police.

Lex chuckled when e looked down at his desk calendar. He appreciated irony above all things, since loyalty could never be counted on.

"Happy Father's Day, Clark," he said, and snapped the lid of the laptop shut.


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One:

Smallville, fourteen years later

Clark Kent imparted no words of wisdom for his son on his first day of high school except "steer clear of football players until after Homecoming." Conner Kent was severely disappointed in this lack of advice. Clark Kent had advice about everything, from which electives to sign up for (Journalism) to what to order at the Talon (never, ever the double mochachino). He was a bountiful well of advice, except for the day that Conner needed it most. On that day, Clark told his son that he'd have to make it through the first perilous day of high school alone.

And so, after five periods of wandering through the halls of Smallville High— ducking into bathrooms and doorways to avoid the football team— Conner left. It was too much, and he just couldn't take all the people, all the noise. So he escaped, to old Loeb Bridge on the outskirts of town, the place where his father had taught him to fish. It was one of the only parts of the river that hadn't been polluted by the LexCorp plant and Conner considered it his refuge, his own little corner of Smallville. And on this day, it would be a good hiding place until he could go home and pretend his day was great.

Squealing tires brought him out of his reverie. Conner barely had time to look up before a crash sounded. A car was flying off the bridge. It slammed into the river, the water rippling up around his calves. The car was blue; it faded into the water as soon as it hit.

Conner was on his feet before he even thought about it, and he was diving into the water. Two, three strokes and he'd made it to the car.

The driver hadn't been wearing his seatbelt. He was floating in the small car, tendrils of red hair curling around his pale face. His hair wasn't the only red in the water— a red cloud was hovering around his head. Conner was not his father— he could not rip off the door or the roof. Instead, he jerked open the door, reached inside and pulled the driver out by the sleeves of his leather jacket.

While he wasn't as strong as his father, Conner was stronger than any normal human, and so dragging the man to the shore and pulling him up on the rocky embankment wasn't so hard as it might have been. When he dropped the driver and looked down, he found too gray-blue eyes— eyes the same color as his own— staring up at him.

"You're alive," Conner said.

"I shouldn't be," the boy replied. "Where did you come from?"

Conner gestured. "I was under there."

The boy tried to push himself into a sitting position and failed. "Almost drowning is hard work," he murmured and fell backward onto the rocky sand.

"I should call—" Conner began, then realized that his phone was in his pocket, and was now soaked.

The driver shook his head. "Mine's gone too."

"What happened?" Conner asked after a moment of silence.

The boy reached a hand up to his bloody forehead. "I was on the phone. My dad always told me—"

Another set of tires interrupted whatever lesson the boy was about to pass on to Conner. Conner looked up, alarmed. Another car couldn't be crashing. That would be ridiculous.

A door slammed from the embankment above them. "Julian!"

"Speak of the devil," the pale boy said and started to struggle to his feet. Conner looked away from the bridge and groped for the boy's hand. They stood together.

"Julian!" the voice yelled again and Conner swiveled to face the man from the second car. He was running full speed down the embankment, almost tripping a few times in his haste. He kicked up clouds of dust, dust which blanketed his black suit as he hurtled toward them.

Conner had only seen him on the cover of magazines— Forbes and Fortune, the occasional cover spread on US Weekly or OK. Never had he had the absolutely terrified, absolutely furious look he had right then.

"Julian!" Lex Luthor said and grabbed the pale boy fiercely by the shoulders. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine, Dad."

"What the hell was that?"

Julian grimaced. "Well, I was on the phone with you when it happened, so…" He sighed. "This kid pulled me out."

Conner had never quite felt so exposed as he did when Lex Luthor turned his full attention on him. The man's eyes were cool, calculating, and bore deep into his own. He looked like his son— so much like his son, Conner thought, that there was almost no trace of a second parent in Julian's fine-boned face. After a moment of loaded silence, Luthor spoke. "Then I'm in your debt." He held out a hand. "If there's anything I can do for you…"

Conner smiled awkwardly as he shook the offered hand and said the first thing that popped into his head. "Make him drive slower."

Something flickered in Lex Luthor's eyes, but then it was gone and Luthor laughed. "Lex Luthor."

"Conner Kent."

That something flickered again, stronger, and Conner's brow ruffled, sure he hadn't imagined it. "Well, would you like a ride home, Conner? Walking wouldn't be comfortable in those clothes."

"Wait… Shouldn't someone call the police… the paramedics?"

Julian smirked, the expression looking comfortable on his face. "Yeah, Dad, shouldn't we call the police?"

Luthor smiled coolly. "Of course we will. But you've had enough excitement, Julian, and I'd feel much better about having my personal physician look you over than some paramedic at the riverside." He turned his face toward Conner. "Now, about that ride?"

Conner thought about the few times he'd heard his father talk about Lex Luthor— always Luthor, spat with more venom than any snake— and was suddenly glad that he wouldn't be called to pick up his son at the scene of an accident only four minutes after school had let out.

"No," Conner said. "My house isn't far from here."

Lex Luthor raised a brow like he somehow _knew_ that the Kent farm was five miles away and held out his hand again. "Thank you again, Conner. As I said, if there's ever anything you need, don't hesitate to call."

Julian turned to Conner. "Yeah. Thanks," he said, but he didn't sound particularly grateful.

* * *

Conner arrived home, the speed at which he ran having dried out his clothes almost completely. He slipped into the barn, dropped his damp backpack, and did his chores, possibly setting his record for slowest time taken to feed the cows. He really, really didn't want to face his father.

But sooner or later, he had to. He trudged back to the barn to get his backpack and before he could even get his hands on it, he heard a throat clear behind him. He turned slowly. "Dad."

"Conner. Done already?"

Conner smiled. "Yeah. I was just gonna go do my homework," he said and reached for his backpack.

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

Conner bit his lip and looked up at his father. "Um… What?"

Clark cocked his head, his expression stern but kind. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

"How did you find out?"

"It's called Smallville for a reason. He called me."

Conner's eyes widened. _He_? Conner wondered who he meant— Julian, or Lex, or… He swallowed hard. "And you're not mad?"

"More disappointed than mad, really," his father said, and sighed.

"_Disappointed_? You think I should have let him die?"

Clark stared at his son in genuine confusion. "Wait, what? Conner, what are you talking about?"

"What are _you_ talking about?"

"You cutting math."

"Oh." Conner blew out a little laugh and shrugged. "Um, there were a bunch of football players around the class and it was just so loud, I couldn't concentrate…"

Clark nodded. "We'll talk about that later. First… Let who die?"

"I was going to tell you at dinner, but I guess now is good too. After… school," he said and winced, "I went out to Loeb Bridge. I was sitting beneath it when there was this crack… and then there was a car flying off the bridge and into the water. I jumped in and pulled the driver out. I saved his life. You'll never guess who he was."

"Lex Luthor," Clark said whimsically.

Conner narrowed his eyes. "No, Julian. Julian Luthor."

"Lex Luthor's son?" Clark replied, his tone caught between astonished and horrified.

"Yeah. He was unconscious. He should have died, Dad. If I hadn't been there—"

"I would have."

Conner's head jerked up; so did Clark's. "Julian?" Conner asked, his eyes widening.

"Excuse my interruption. I heard voices from outside."

Julian Luthor didn't look like someone who had nearly died less than two hours before. He was wearing a leather jacket almost identical to the one he had ruined that afternoon, and the cut that had crisscrossed his forehead was sealed and nearly invisible. There was a bruise marring the pale skin of his face and as he stepped further into the barn, he favored his left leg slightly. The limp did nothing to disguise the fluid grace of his walk, though, just as the bruise did nothing to hide the confidence on his face.

"Shouldn't you be resting or something?" Conner asked, taking a step toward Julian.

Julian grinned. "Doctor says I should stay awake for the next twelve hours. Something about a concussion. I thought I'd come see my savior." Then for the first time, he shifted his eyes to Clark. "Mr. Kent. Your son is quite the hero." He held out a hand. "Lee Luthor."

"Lee?" Conner questioned.

Lee pulled his hand back when it became clear that Clark wasn't going to shake it. "My father's the only one who calls me Julian."

"So, Lee," Clark said, and Conner had never heard his voice sound so hostile, "did you come here to offer my son a truck or something equally extravagant in thanks for his timely rescue?"

Lee laughed. "No. The only thing I came to offer is my thanks. My father is the billionaire. He keeps me on a short leash— afraid I'll overthrow him given half the chance, I suppose."

Clark kept his eyes narrowed. "He's right. You would."

"Naturally," Lee said and grinned again.

"Well, it was nice of you to stop by, but Conner and I were about to make dinner."

"You could stay," Conner piped up, and had no idea why he said it.

An angry look flashed across his dad's face, and Julian must have seen it, but he nodded anyway. "I'd like that."

* * *

Two Kents and a Luthor sitting down to dinner was surely the most awkward situation possible. Conner was sure nothing like it had ever happened before. Julian, in leather and denim more expensive than anything that belonged in the Kent house, clearly didn't fit in. His shave was too close, his skin too smooth and pale. He was the epitome of 'big city' and Conner felt very much the country mouse beside him.

"So how old are you, Lee?" Clark asked.

"I just turned seventeen."

"Shouldn't you be in school, then?"

"My father toyed with the idea of putting me in school here but I think he knows I'll get more done on my own. No distractions," he said and winked at Conner, who grinned back happily.

"Must be hard to leave your friends behind for your senior year," Clark offered blandly.

"My father would tell you that friends are a luxury Luthors can't afford."

"And what do you say?"

"I doubt he's ever had a real friend, so his opinion isn't really something I'll base my own on."

"You don't think much of him," Conner said, remembering the way they interacted at the river.

"Don't you read any magazines? That's no secret."

"So what are you doing with him here in Smallville?" Clark asked.

Something dark crossed Julian's face. "My father decided we need some time away from the city. Father-son bonding, or something like that. But of course, he'll be on the phone for most of it, as usual."

"What about your mother?"

Clark and Lee both went completely still. Conner glanced between them, confused. Lee recovered first. "She died. Two years ago. But I hadn't seen her in ages before that." Lee looked over at Clark, who had barely recovered. "She grew up here, sir— did you know her? Lana Lang?"

"We were in the same class at Smallville High."

Lee smiled and opened his mouth. But before he could speak, Clark stood. "I'll leave you boys to clean up. If that's not a problem, Julian?"

Lee shook his head. "Of course not, Mr. Kent."

Lee didn't help at all. Instead, he perched on the table and watched as Conner rinsed and washed the plates.

"So do you like living on a farm?"

"I never thought about it. I guess I do."

"I'd go insane. My dad used to talk about the farm in Montana he'd visit with my grandmother. I always tuned him out when he'd start on about the time his father kicked him out in favor of my uncle Lucas and he was forced to beg lodging from some locals and do the hardest of all the chores at four thirty am." He rolled his eyes and Conner smirked, because it certainly didn't sound like he'd tuned his father out. Julian returned his smirk, obviously thinking Conner's smile was about something else. "I don't need to hear about how lucky I am to have Lex Luthor for a father instead of Lionel."

"Why do you all have L names?"

"We don't. We make it seem like we do. My dad is Alexander, you know."

"Well, why do you all do it?"

"No clue. But I fed into it— Lee Luthor, son of Lex and Lana."

"So are you going to marry a Lisa or a Lena?"

"Never thought about it. I sure as hell am not going to name my son Larry Luthor."

Conner grinned playfully. "How about Lenny?"

"Or Leander?"

"The cheesy possibilities are endless."

Lee laughed and hopped off the table. "I should go."

"Thanks for the help." Conner winked.

"Anytime," Lee said and patted Conner on the back. "Come out to the castle sometime. Our meeting… It wasn't an accident."

"Are you saying you were destined to go off that bridge?"

"I'm saying _you_ were destined to save _me_."

Conner smiled at Lee. "The stuff of legends."

"Now you sound like my father. Lex Luthor? Not someone you want to emulate." Lee shrugged into his jacket. "See you around."

Moments after Lee disappeared out the kitchen door, Clark entered the room. "That was certainly interesting."

"I feel bad for him. Stuck out in his castle with a father he hates."

"Hates Lex Luthor, doesn't offer people shiny red trucks, doesn't pretend to be anything save a rich, spoiled brat. I could almost like that boy… If I didn't know what was going to happen to him."

"What?"

"He'll fight his father until he becomes him."

"You know he was talking about his family. It doesn't sound like the greatest home life. You know his grandfather once kicked his dad out one time, made him beg for a farmer's charity or something?"

"Lionel Luthor was no prince."

"Did you know them, Dad?" Conner questioned, surprised.

His dad blinked, then said, "I delivered produce to the castle twice a week for a couple years, while the plant was being run by Lex Luthor."

"Oh. Did you know Lee's mom?"

Clark turned away and focused on a point in the ceiling. "In high school. We dated."

"Why'd she marry Lex if he's such a bad guy?"

"Why ask why, Conner?" Clark replied. "I'm going to tell you I don't want you hanging around with Lee. But I'm not going to forbid it, because I remember how I was when I was your age. But remember, Conner, you can't save everyone."

Conner grinned, trying to cut the tension exuding from his father. "But, Dad, I already saved him."

Clark breathed a sigh and gave his son a half smile. "If only it was that easy."


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Conner loitered in front of the mansion gates for ten minutes before getting up the nerve to ring the bell. The intercom buzzed, and a voice said briskly, "Yes?"

Conner cleared his throat and pressed the button, leaning close to the microphone. "Um… My name is Conner Kent… I'm here to see Lee. Um, Mr. Luthor. Lee Luthor."

"One moment please." The voice said, and Conner swallowed hard. This was a bad idea. Lee had said to stop by sometime, not the very next day, right after school, the soonest possible moment… And of course, he might have not even meant it…

Barely a minute had passed before the gate buzzed and lurched open. Conner breathed a relieved sigh and smiled. He walked up to the front door, trying not to jog, not to seem too eager. He didn't even have time to knock on the door, before it was being pulled open by a man in a black suit.

"Mr. Kent," the man said formally, and gestured for him to enter.

Entering the Luthor Mansion was like stepping back in time— and across an ocean. Conner had heard the stories about how the castle was shipped stone by stone from Scotland, how it was the Luthor ancestral home, how no one had set foot in it since Lana Luthor's mysterious disappearance on her son's fourth birthday. But he, like ninety nine percent of Smallville's citizens, had never been inside of it.

Before he could completely take the foyer in, Lee was striding up to him, a smile on his face. "Conner! Good to see you."

Conner grinned. "You too. Sorry for just coming by… I didn't have your number…"

Lee waved off his concern with a flick of his wrist and gestured for Conner to follow him down the hall. "Feel free to stop by any time. My castle is your castle."

"Uh… Thanks."

"The entertainment room," Lee said with a flourish, presenting the most contrasting room Conner had ever seen.

It was still unmistakably old fashioned, with heavy furniture and stained glass, but there was a huge television against one wall, surrounded by BluRay disks and video games… Conner looked around to see what system Lee had and gasped out, "Is that an X-Box 2600?"

Lee grinned and sank down onto the brown leather couch. "A gift from my uncle Lucas. He's been sleeping with Majandra Gates."

"I can't believe it."

"Have a seat, Conner. We can play Halo or something," Lee said, laughing.

Conner chuckled awkwardly and sat next to Lee. "I didn't mean to… gape…"

"Hey, I gaped when Lucas gave it to me. I'm telling you, my uncle? So much cooler than my father." Lee grinned, and it was then that Conner noticed: he was completely healed.

The cut on his forehead was gone, not even a little line indicating that it had ever existed. The bruise was gone, and when Lee had walked with him to the entertainment room, it had been without even the hint of a limp.

Conner forced himself not to gape at the remarkable healing. Instead, he asked, as casually as possible, "So no permanent damage from the accident?"

"Looks like it. You?" He quirked a brow. "I'm glad your father didn't kill you once I was gone. I get the feeling he doesn't really like the Luthors."

"He definitely does not like the Luthors, although as far as I can tell he's never really gotten to know one."

Lee pressed his lips together and leaned forward. "I have to admit that I had an ulterior motive in inviting you here. I have a favor to ask you, Conner." His cool eyes shifted to the door of the room, open but empty. "Your father said he went to school with my mother."

"Yeah. Apparently they dated."

Something flashed in Lee's eyes and he leaned forward further, an almost hungry expression on his face. "I've never… My father boxed up any and all things having to do with Lana Luthor when she disappeared. She is not a topic anyone is allowed to mention around him. The only pictures I have are ones I've printed from the internet. So since my father has erased Lana Luthor… I thought I might be able to get to know Lana Lang."

Conner, who had never known his mother, had never even known her full name, understood and nodded. "What can I do?"

Lee smiled, his lips stretching across white, white teeth. "You know where your dad keeps his yearbook?"

* * *

Clark had meant it when he told his son that he really could almost like Julian Luthor. Lee reminded him so much of Lex, the Lex he had first known, all this energy tucked into a pale, lean frame, anxious for something beyond him and dripping with an air of entitlement. Lex had tried to check it, tried to fit in as best he could.

But Lee didn't seem like he even cared to try. There was boundless ambition in those gray-blue eyes, and his posture, his voice, held more attitude than Lex had had at twenty-one. Lee was, Clark expected, a carbon-copy of what Lex was at seventeen: brash, unconstrained, as much a Julian prince as Lex had been an Alexander. He even looked like Lex, except for the bright red hair.

Clark didn't see Lana in Lee at all, except for in his smile when he had looked at Conner. Or perhaps that was all Lex too, because Lana hadn't been the only one back then to smile at him with such faith. Clark remembered an old teacher saying that history repeats itself; Clark shivered at the thought, because the old adage was hitting far too close to home, hitting like an expensive car careening off of Loeb Bridge.

History, Clark knew. History was in an old shoe box, too big to really be called a shoe box, as it was for a pair of his boots, which were gigantic. The box was just big enough to house sixteen years of magazine and newspaper clippings about the notorious Lex Luthor. Not everything was in there, of course; it would have taken an entire shoe store to fit every printed word about Luthor. No, only the important things were in the box: Lee's birth announcement, an article speculating on where the Luthor bride had run off to (rehab or Italy with a young lover?) when she disappeared a year after the birth of her son, clips on the various and sundry misdeeds of LuthorCorp and later LexCorp. There was one important article missing. Clark didn't need to put it in his box because he knew it word for word.

Clark hadn't removed the box from its place under the old, ratty sofa in his barn loft since he was twenty-three, and Oliver Queen had assured him that the newly re-christened LexCorp wasn't a threat to him or to Conner. But he pulled it out now, blowing thick layers of dust off of the faded blue cardboard. He opened the lid and stared down at the face that had looked at him from across the dinner table the night before, albeit in black and white, bald, and a few years older.

"LuthorCorp Dissolved" the headline read. The byline belonged to Lois, the only one of the four of them to keep her job after the events of that fateful week fourteen years before.

"Dad!" Conner called out as he walked into the barn, severing the train of Clark's thoughts. "You in here?"

Clark closed the lid of the box and pushed it back under the couch. "Up here, Conner!" he shouted and got to his feet.

His son jogged up the stairs at a human pace, and smiled at him. "Hey, Dad."

"You're home late," Clark said with a quirk of his brow.

Conner smiled sheepishly. "I— Uh, I wanted to stop in and… um…"

"See Julian Luthor?"

"I wanted to make sure Lee was okay. You know, that the concussion or whatever wasn't serious." Conner let out a little breath and dropped onto the couch. "Dad, you wouldn't believe it. He's as good as new. No marks on him. At all. It's like he has some freaky-weird meteor power."

Clark snorted. "I would not be surprised."

"But the Luthors aren't from Smallville. The meteors didn't go anywhere else, right?"

Clark sat down beside his son. "Conner, the first meteor shower, the one that I came in…" Talking about this, especially with Conner, had always been difficult. A part of Clark believed it should be easy, because Conner was a part of him, more his blood than even his cousin Kara. But though that was the theory, it didn't hold up. He forced himself to continue. "That shower changed a lot of lives. No one knew such a thing could happen, and so many people were caught in the crossfire. Lex Luthor was one of those people."

"That's why he's bald," Conner said, sudden understanding on his face.

"Yeah. And that's why Lee can heal so fast. He got it from Lex."

"You coming down in the shower, Lex Luthor getting caught in it, me and Lee meeting yesterday… It feels an awful lot like destiny."

Clark blew out a breath scornfully. Conner had _no_ idea. "Well, destiny is what we make of it. The writing on the wall isn't always true."

"Dad, I know you don't want me to hang out with Lee Luthor."

"Of course you do. I told you that," Clark said, but smiled.

Conner didn't laugh. "It's hard to explain but when I'm with him it's like there's this connection…" He trailed off, a look of wonder on his face.

Clark blanched. "You don't mean…"

Conner's eyes widened when he caught his father's meaning. "No! Oh, no. Really, no."

"Good," was all Clark said in response to the vehement denial.

"It's like we're supposed to be friends. Like he's someone I should have known my whole life. You don't understand, I know…"

"No," Clark said, cutting him off. "No, I get it."

Conner smiled brightly. "Thanks, Dad."

"One thing though. With the Luthors in town, I want you to be even more careful of using your abilities. Connection or not, you don't know what they're like."

Conner nodded solemnly. He started to turn away, then asked quietly, "Dad, is it really fair to judge Lee because of who his father is?"

Clark didn't answer, just kept his eyes trained on the corner of the shoebox poking out from under the couch. Conner tired of waiting for an answer after a moment, and walked away.

Clark didn't move to retrieve the shoebox again. He was content to just stare at it. But footsteps broke him out of his thoughts a few moments later. Clark said, "You want an answer? Maybe it's not fair, Conner, but that's just how they _are_," and looked up.

Into the expressionless, pale face of Lex Luthor.

"Hello, Clark."


	4. Chapter Three

Author's Notes: This chapter contains references to AU events and some spoilers from the sixth season. The flashback is in italics. Thanks so much for the reviews, guys! As to whether or not Clark and Lex will be friends… You're gonna have to wait and see.

Chapter Three

Clark was so surprised to see Lex Luthor in his barn that he said the very first thing that came to mind.

"You're not here to offer my son a truck, are you?"

Lex, who looked as surprised as Clark felt, let out a loud and real laugh. In that moment, Clark almost felt like they could be friends again.

It didn't last.

"No, Clark. I didn't." Lex ran the tips of his fingers, encased in leather driving gloves— some things didn't ever change— along the rail of the loft. "I came to see you. Gambled that you still hid out in your Fortress of Solitude."

"Some things don't change," Clark said, echoing his earlier thought, and he was proud to note that his voice was cold.

Lex noted the chill too, and lifted a brow. "You know, my son is quite enamored of young Conner."

"He showed up for dinner last night. God, Lex, he's just like you at his age." It was clearly an insult. He calculated the degree of smirk to use and was rewarded with an eye roll.

"You didn't know me at his age."

"I read enough tabloid articles to catch the similarities." It was said to hurt, because Clark, in the three years he'd been Lex's best friend, had never ever read those rags.

Lex didn't react, which in itself was a reaction. Clark was proud of himself. "So I take it you don't approve of the Kent-Luthor friendship version 2.0."

"No. I don't. My son doesn't need that influence in his life." He left the rest— the science, the lies, the reason he'd never left the farm— unsaid. "You could put a stop to it if you really wanted to."

"I think you overestimate my power over my son." Lex ran a hand over his head. "Do you think I want Julian getting involved with you and your son? Don't forget, Clark, I know what it's like to try to be worthy of a Kent's affection. I tried to tell him it wasn't worth his time." Lex's lips twitched and turned up in what Clark had thought of as his "corporate smile", back when Clark had had names for all of Lex's expressions. "But Julian is a stubborn boy; if I tell him not to do something, it just makes him want to do it more."

"I wonder where he gets that from."

Lex's bland smile took on a malicious quality. "Both sides of the family, I'm afraid."

"What do you want, Lex?"

"I'm here to curtail any heroism you might indulge in with me in your backyard. I'm not here because of business, I'm not here because of the met— _Kryptonite_ or anything else having to do with Clark Kent and his graveyard of secrets."

"Then why are you here?"

Lex looked out the loft window, almost dreamily. "This is where it all began. I'm hoping it can force some kind of understanding between me and my son." He straightened and looked over at Clark. "So let's just agree to coexist. It's not like we ever have to see each other."

"It's called Smallville for a reason, Lex," he shot back.

"You may still be the same old boy on the farm, Clark, but I'm not. I doubt the Talon's cappuccinos have gotten better over the years, so I don't think I'll really spend much time in town."

Lex looked serious. Clark knew how to read him, had learned from a mountain of lies how to ferret out that nugget of truth. It had just happened to late to save their friendship— or more likely, prevent it. "Fine. That still leaves the matter of our sons."

_Speak of the devil and he appears_, his father had always said (usually in relation to Lex Luthor). Right after the words left Clark's mouth, Conner was bounding up the stairs, calling out, "Dad, whose car is that? Did Lee—"

Lex's slim frame hid most of Conner's, but Clark could hear the surprise in his son's trailed off syllable as he took in the bald head and tailored jacket before him. "Oh, Mr. Luthor."

Lex shifted and Clark could see them both. Conner looked radically uncomfortable, and Clark flashed back to his youth, when he was forced into the same room as Lionel Luthor. Lex looked calm and smiled a neutral smile.

"Conner. Good to see you."

"I thought you were Lee." Conner forced a smile. "The car… The plates have his name on them."

"Yes, well, Lee crashed mine yesterday, so I took his." Lex had a way of looking at someone, so that the rest of the world fell away. Such intense scrutiny had given Clark chills when he was younger. Conner looked uncomfortable under Lex's eyes. "I wanted to thank you again." He shifted his glance to Clark. "Perhaps I should have brought a truck." Then he smiled. "I think we're done here, Clark."

"For now."

Neither of them said goodbye, but Conner did, with a small smile more gracious than any smile Clark had ever given Lionel Luthor when he was in his role as Lex's best friend. Lex echoed his farewell, and headed out. Clark listened to his steps and then his engine until it was pulling out onto the main road before saying, "What did you want, Conner?"

"Dad, why was Lex Luthor here? I thought you barely knew him."

"He stopped by to commend your effort with his son."

"What is it with you guys and trucks?" Conner asked but seemed to buy his explanation.

"It's an old inside joke," Clark said before he realized that acquaintances didn't have inside jokes.

Conner didn't notice. He did hesitate before asking, "Dad, you're going into Metropolis tomorrow, right?"

'Yeah, me and Tom Granger are going in to pick up some equipment. We'll be back by eight. Why do you ask?"

"I need a new calculator. For math and science. I know money's tight, but you can get them cheap at this store in Metropolis…"

Clark smiled. "No problem. Write down what you need; I'll get it."

"Thanks, Dad. You coming in for dinner?"

Clark nodded. "I'll be in soon."

After Conner was out of the barn, Clark put his head in his hands. He knew as well as Lex that their sons were going to be friends. Both of them were too stubborn, on all sides of their families, to listen to warnings— Lee because he would defy his father on any point; Conner because he honestly felt something in Lee calling out to him. As if Clark didn't know what that was like.

Clark opened his eyes, saw the blue and yellow corner of the shoebox. Clark knew what it was like. A friendship with a Luthor had the power to do anything— buy a truck, save a farm, get Lifehouse to play at prom. But it was the enmity that had the power to change destiny.

And Clark knew what that was like too.

* * *

_Metropolis- June 18th, 2009_

_"And you're sure about this?" _

_"I'm sure. I've had men on this for close to a year. Lex may seem to have cleaned up his act, but all he did was go underground. Literally." Oliver Queen rolled out a large sheet of paper, which turned out to be a blueprint. "There's a lab beneath the dam. It's hydro-powered and encased with lead, so it's harder to trace."_

_The last part of what Oliver said struck Clark hard, a sliver of fear racing through his stomach. "Encased with lead? Wait, you don't think Lex knows about… my abilities?" _

_"Damn it, Kal-El, of course he knows. Lex Luthor is evil, not stupid. He as much told me he knew the first time I ever met him." Kara rolled her eyes, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear. "And even if he didn't know about yours... Well, he knows about mine, along with the rest of Metropolis." _

_Clark looked around at the people surrounding him. The Justice League of America. It was a lofty name, for a lofty group of crime fighters. Most of them were there, surrounding him in his apartment, looking as comfortable as they would in their own headquarters- if/when they got one. He was the only one among them who wasn't a full member, the only one of their burgeoning team who wasn't costumed and nicknamed. Yet they all looked at him for some sort of decision or plan, like Lex was his responsibility. _

_And really, wasn't he? _

_"And you're sure? About what's going on there?" _

_Oliver nodded. "Human cloning, biochemical weapon development, experiments with refined meteor rocks of all varieties… Clark, it's huge." _

_"We have to stop him." _

_Oliver nodded and Kara rolled her eyes, her face plainly saying, "Duh." _

_"What's your plan?" _

_"That's where you come in. The JLA could storm in, destroy it all... But he'd just build it again. It took me a while to realize that." Oliver looked away, probably remembering past failures and successes incurred while trying to take down Lex Luthor. "No, this time we need Clark Kent, not a… Superboy." _

_Clark rolled his eyes, wishing not for the first time that he was not related to Supergirl, and that Kara had chosen a less… well, stupid name for herself. "What do you want me to do?" _

_"What a reporter does best. Report. Use the power of the press against the bastard." _

_Clark shook his head rapidly. "Oliver, look, I've only been working at the Daily Planet for a year. I'm barely out of the basement. What makes you think I can break a story like this about Lex Luthor and LuthorCorp?" _

_"Not just you. All three of you." Oliver looked down when he said it, probably thinking of Lois and their spectacularly bad third (and final) break up. "You guys could be the dream team. You break this, it's Pulitzers all around." _

_Clark took a moment to think about it. He, Chloe, and Lois, finally busting the story wide open, taking down Lex and stopping all the evil he could cause. The world didn't need LuthorCorp, didn't need Lex, who was already reaching feelers out to the political world again. He imagined the world in fifteen years, a world where Lex might be president, a world where LuthorCorp and InterGang controlled and destroyed lives even more than they already did. He could stop it. _

_Clark nodded. "Alright. What do we need to do?" _

_Bart and Kara grinned, while the others just nodded their approval of his answer. It was Oliver who answered. "Call your sidekicks and get ready for an all-nighter. We've got the evidence," he said, handing over a plastic carton full of CD-Roms and folders, "but you're gonna have to do some sifting." _

_Clark nodded and reached for the carton with one hand and his cell with the other. He'd call Chloe. Sifting they could do. _

_"One thing," Oliver said. "Sift fast. We didn't exactly check those out of the library."_

_Clark blinked, and for the first time since entering the room, had a bad feeling about this._

TBC.


	5. Chapter Four

A/N: Thanks for such awesome reviews, guys! As to the questions… All parentage issues of both boys will be explained… Later. The end part, of the JLA in 2009, was a flashback. There will be more flashbacks as the story goes on. This chapter was supposed to be longer; not much happens, but it still turned into a cliffhanger. But my laptop charger has died, so I wanted to get it up in the time I have left. So please R&R, folks.

Chapter Four

Conner never lied to his father. They were honest, salt-of-the-Earth folk, those Kents, even if one of them happened to be from somewhere other than Earth. But Conner hadn't lied; he'd just made up an excuse to find out how long his father would be gone, and had conveniently forgotten to tell him that Lee Luthor would be coming over after school.

Lee arrived precisely at three-thirty, in the same car his father had been driving the day before, a midnight blue Ferrari that probably cost as much as the farm. Conner wondered how long those comparisons would go on in his head— Lee's car, Conner's farm; Lee's jeans, Conner's computer— and wished he had someone to ask about it, someone with experience being a billionaire's teenage friend. If he could call himself that.

Lee climbed out of the car looking like something out of GQ. He was on his cell phone, some nearly microscopic piece of technology that hid inside his pale, pale hand.

"Yeah, I know, Jayden. Parents suck, in laymen's terms. I'd be at your party if I could. I throw my full weight behind your attempts to debauch Z, since I will not be there to do it for you." Lee smiled at Conner. "No, it's not so bad. The company's good." He rolled his eyes at whatever Jayden had said. "No, I'm not talking about my father, _J-Fed_. Later." The microscopic phone disappeared from Lee's hand into his pocket. "Conner. Good day at school?"

"Sure. Was that a friend?" Conner asked.

"Close to it. My father can't stand my crowd." He winked and sang, "It drives him crazy…" to the tune of the old pop song.

Conner laughed and started into the barn, Lee walking behind him. "My father's gone for the day. He keeps all his old yearbooks and stuff up here." They climbed the stairs and Conner took the opportunity to say, "You know, your father was here yesterday. You know why that is?" He glanced back at Lee.

He shook his head, looking surprised. "No. No idea."

"He said he was here to thank me for saving you."

Lee rolled his eyes. "Right. Like anyone is dumb enough to believe he cares."

"Maybe he does. Why are things so bad between you?"

They reached the loft, and Lee dropped down onto the couch. "Alexander the Great never lived to see his son born. I'm sure if he had, he would have been just as disappointed in him as my father is in me. But little Alexander IV never lived to see seventeen. I, at least, have made it this far." Lee looked over at Conner, something glinting in his eyes. "Thanks to you." Before Conner could reply, Lee said, "My father is bastard anyway. So where are those yearbooks?"

Conner reached over and pulled a red and yellow bound book off of the shelf. "Freshman year," he said and handed it to Lee.

"Best to begin at the beginning," Lee replied, and opened it up to the first page.

Conner had never looked inside his father's yearbooks. Clark Kent had always just told Conner stories, about Aunt Chloe and the long absent Pete Ross, woven tales around his son so tight that he'd never once thought to look for proof that the Smallville Torch had been filled with meteor freak of the week stories, or that Chloe had always had such offbeat style, even before she was a reporter for the _Gotham Speculator_. Now that he had the idea in his head, though, it was easy to sit close to Lee and watch as his pale fingers turned old pages.

Lee did begin at the beginning. Had it been Conner searching for pictures of his mother, he would have gone directly to the freshmen, letter L. But Lee opened to the title page, read the little blurb, written by someone named Kelly Hill. It talked about a year of changes and beginnings, much like every yearbook in the world did. Lee was a fast reader, and Conner was glad he was too, because Lee didn't ask him if he was finished before he turned the page.

The summer vacation section was full of things about people that Conner didn't care about, but Lee took a deep breath and smoothed his fingers across the bottom right corner of the book. Conner looked down.

It was a grainy picture of a dark-haired girl and a sandy-haired boy. He was holding a football in one hand and the girl's hand in the other. She was wearing a letterman's jacket that was clearly his; it was too large for her small frame.

"Senior Whitney Fordman says that the best thing he did all summer was ask out the girl of his dreams, Freshman Lana Lang, for their first official date," Lee read quietly.

Conner stared down at her. She did look like Lee, but only a little, in the tilt of his blue eyes and the slight flare of his nostrils. Lee breathed out through his nose, making them flare all the more, and then turned the page.

The next few pages had no mention of Lana Lang, or Conner's father. Conner did see one picture of the mysterious friend Pete Ross, but Lee seemed so tense he didn't want to ask him to stop. The Crows won their homecoming game (Conner thought of Clark, who had, apparently, been the Scarecrow that year, and shivered) and there was a full color picture of Whitney, sweaty and laughing, but Lana was not beside him in this picture.

The next mention of Lana Lang was on the "Practice for the Real World?" spread, which was about students at their after school jobs. Whitney was at some store, other students were working at the multiplex, and in the largest photo was Lana Lang at the Talon, standing in front of a table serving Clark Kent and Lex Luthor.

She was radiant. Conner couldn't think of another word for it. The smile on her face looked like it could pop out off of the page and infect both him and Lee with its breathtaking sincerity. It had certainly affected her customers. Clark and Lex were smiling at each other as Lex brought a cup heaping with whipped cream to his lips. It was a beautiful picture.

"Oh, God, that's sick."

Conner jerked his eyes to Lee. "What?"

"Read the copy. My dad _bought_ the Talon, saving it from its date with a wrecking ball, and became her business partner."

"So?"

"So? Conner, he married her like right out of high school. You know how sick that is? She must have been like fourteen then."

"Maybe they were just business partners."

"Yeah. Right."

"She looks happy. So does your dad."

"As does yours," Lee replied. Conner had begun to wonder whether Lee had even noticed his dad. "I didn't know they knew each other."

"My dad delivered produce to his… your… house. I didn't know they hung out."

"Strange." Lee took out his phone and focused it on the page, snapping a picture. Conner didn't ask why, but Lee explained anyway. "When I'm not so disturbed by my father's apparent pedophilia, I have to return to the image of him eating whipped cream and laugh."

Conner chuckled, and Lee turned the page. There were no more huge revelations as they paged through the book. Conner found the guts to tell Lee to pause at the page about the Torch and gestured to his dad's picture in explanation.

"'Editor Chloe Sullivan lead the paper impressively, especially considering her Freshman status, and brought the Torch beyond the status of high school paper with exposes on local crime, new scientific theory, and even an interview with local business tycoon Lex Luthor,'" Conner read with a smile. "That's Chloe."

"I think my father would balk at being known as a 'local'."

They found Lana's school picture. She looked wholesome and fresh, and Lee stared at her with something akin to wonder. After a moment, he shook his head and closed the book. "Sophomore year?" he asked.

"Wait," Conner said. "I wonder if she signed it."

The book was opened again and they combed through childish handwriting, finding quite a few 'have a great summer's and a couple phone numbers scrawled. Conner caught a glimpse of Chloe's handwriting, but Lee was searching for his mother's. On the back page he stopped, tilted his head, and said, "What the hell?"

Conner looked down to see a paragraph in silvery purple ink and didn't know why Lee was so confused until he realized that the paragraph was signed by "L.L."

"Your mother?" he asked.

"No. My father."

"Your father writes in purple ink?"

Lee didn't crack a smile and he didn't read the paragraph out loud. So Conner leaned over him and did it. "Clark- the Greek playwright Euripides once said that one loyal friend is worth ten thousand relatives. I think he had you in mind. I never thought I'd be grateful for destroying my favorite car. I'm glad you survived your first year of high school- and only in Smallville would that be a literal statement."

"Produce deliveries, huh?" Lee asked and snapped the book shut. "I knew there was a reason my father didn't want me seeing you."

Conner looked up, eyes wide. "Your father what?"

"Yeah. He laid into me about coming over here the other night, told me no good would come of befriending the locals." Lee smirked. "Apparently he knows from experience."

"Whatever happened…"

"Whatever happened I'm sure it's my father's fault. I don't know why your father lied to you, though."

"I wonder if it had something to do with your mother," Conner said idly. "My dad did say they dated."

Something sharp and shiny glinted in Lee's eyes. "That's right. He did."

Conner shrugged it off, uncomfortable with the way that Lee was looking at him. "Sophomore year?"

"Lead on, MacDuff," Lee said and passed the book to Conner.

The next two hours passed by quickly. They learned that there had been a tornado at the end of Clark and Lana's freshman year, and that it had taken the town the whole summer to clean it up. They learned that LuthorCorp had closed the plant and LexCorp had taken it over (only in town like Smallville, where the town's whole economy rested on that plant, would such news be in the _yearbook_). There was a memorial spread for Whitney Fordman, who died as a soldier overseas ("Explains why I'm not a Fordman," Lee had said, his face caught between relief and regret). Sometime during their junior year, Lana Lang had broken her leg badly, and there were a few pictures of her with a cast on.

Senior year Clark was the quarterback of the football team, and his team had won State. The uniforms had been donated by LuthorCorp, and one of the pictures of the crowd watching one of the football games showed a wide-eyed Lex Luthor sitting beside the perky, blond Chloe Sullivan. Both looked caught between a cheer and a cringe, as did all the other people in the stands. The caption read, "Two seconds later, the Crows won the game!"

"I wonder why my father is hanging out with a bunch of high school students," Lee murmured.

"Too bad he didn't sign any of the other yearbooks."

"Too bad no one did," Lee said, flipping through the blank pages. He paused when he came to the last one. "Except my mother."

"'Clark- I'm sorry about this year and all of its misunderstandings. During this past week, you've been my rock, my protector, just like you always are. I was just too blind to see it. I love you and I don't want anything to ever come between us again. Lana.'" Conner sighed after reading the words. "Makes you wonder why they broke up."

"Makes you wonder how long they were together. My mother married my father a year and a half after her high school graduation, and they were dating for six months before that. Apparently something did come between them. I'm willing to bet it had something to do with the initials L.L."

Conner was willing to bet it had something to do with superpowers and secrets, but all he did was shrug. He glanced at his watch. "Lee, it's almost six. My dad's gonna be back soon. He'll get really mad if he finds out we were up here."

Lee slid Clark's 2003-4 yearbook back on the shelf and nodded. "I better get back to Castle Luthor. My dad wants us to have dinner together."

"Maybe he really is interested in father-son bonding."

Lee smiled and to Conner, he looked sad. "It's really too late for that, Conner. Our fate was sealed years ago."

"Don't you think we make our own destiny?"

"I do," Lee said. "He made it for us, the day he killed my mother."

TBC


	6. Chapter Five

A/N: Sorry it's been so long. My laptop is all powered up again. I should have another update really soon. Thanks for the reviews, yet again.

Chapter Five

Clark returned home at seven o'clock, surprised to find Conner just sitting at the table, surrounded by the ingredients for spaghetti and meatballs.

"Conner?" he asked when he walked in, laying down the plastic bag with Conner's calculator on the table next to a jar of Prego.

"Dad. Hey."

"Something wrong?" Clark asked. He didn't really need to ask; Conner's face was shadowed, confusion playing across his features. It was a look that Clark understood, a look he had on his face a lot at Conner's age. But there was something darker there, a taint to the small town innocence his son had always had. Clark didn't need to ask where it had come from. The tire tracks on the driveway had been fresh. Clark wondered what exactly Julian Luthor had had to say to upset his son.

Instead of demanding to know, Clark picked up the packet of noodles and walked toward the stove, where an un-boiling pot of water stood on a cold stovetop. Clark flicked the heat on, then hit the water with a short blast of heat vision.

"I thought you said we had to be more careful," Conner said.

"Yeah, I did. But you didn't start dinner, and I'm starving." Clark grinned and tore open the packet of noodles.

Conner stood and grabbed the jar of sauce. "Dad, you're supposed to put the sauce on first." Conner emptied the tomato sauce into a pan and put it on another burner, then grabbed for the skillet and ground beef. "Sorry. I know I said I'd start dinner. I've just been… Distracted."

"What's up?" Clark asked, leaning against the counter.

Conner moved easily through kitchen, his movements smooth and precise, so different from Clark when he was fourteen. "You know, Lee was here today."

"Yeah," Clark said. "I saw the tire tracks."

Conner looked up sharply, like he hadn't thought of that. "Oh. Well. The point is… Dad, what do you know about what happened to Lana Luthor?"

Clark froze, three parts of him warring for control of his emotions. There was the first part, the part that was so angry, angry after all these years, because Lana had married Lex, because Lana was dead, because Lana hadn't been with him and so he hadn't been able to stop any of it. The second part was just undeniably sad. The part that won, however, was that part of him that needed Conner to remain in the dark about all of it, and so his face went blank.

"The papers all said it was an accident, if I remember correctly. She came to see her son, something happened and she fell down the stairs." Clark knew that wasn't the whole story. It never was with Lex. The tabloids had remained silent on even the possibility of murder and so Clark knew they'd been paid off. Clark himself hadn't been able to do any investigating into her death— he had stayed away from anything involving the Luthors since he had brought Conner home to the farm, promising himself on that day that he would do whatever it took to keep himself and his son safe and off the radar.

"Dad…" Conner looked over at him, and Clark could see the conflicting loyalties on his face. Conner didn't continue, though; instead, he pushed the browning beef around on the skillet.

"Look, Conner, you've know Lee Luthor for three days and he has you contemplating dead parents over an uncooked meal. Don't you think you should maybe find some friends your own age?"

"Like who, Dad? The cliques all formed in fifth grade. I didn't have any friends then, and I still don't. It's hard— knowing you're different. I don't have to tell you that. But you had Aunt Chloe and your friend Pete… There's no one here like that."

"So Lee becomes your friend by default?"

Anger flashed in Conner's eyes. "Dad, I'm not like that. I told you how I fell about Lee." Conner grimaced, but the anger had fled and he playfully asked, "That sounds really gay, doesn't it?"

"A little," Clark said and felt the tension between them break. But Conner didn't bring Lana Luthor up again, and Clark let the topic lie.

* * *

Lee didn't get home until 6:55. On his way through town— Lee shuddered at the thought that he lived in a town— he stopped for coffee at the Talon, and found the exact spot his father had sat at in Clark Kent's yearbook. He wasn't sentimental; Lex Luthor's son wouldn't have survived if he was sentimental. But something about the café, which was like a monument to the traditional, warm coffee house of the 80s and 90s, made him stop, think about this past he knew nothing about. He stared into the vacant space his mother had once stood in, and when the waitress came to take his order, he pretended her blond hair was glossy brown, and ordered something with whipped cream.

Lee had never been obsessed with the truth. It wasn't until he knew his bastard father was hiding something that he'd even cared to try to unravel the mystery that was his beautiful, cold mother. He was already grateful that he'd done so. Lee didn't like remembering Lana as _he_ knew her. And so now he could remember pretty Lana Lang, a letterman jacket draped across pink clad shoulders and promise shining in her eyes.

Home was not a word Lee associated with good memories. Lee parked his car in the middle of the driveway, waltzed into the castle, and headed straight for the dining room, where his father was already eating.

"I said 6:30, Julian," Lex said, looking up from the plate Lee could tell he'd barely touched.

"I'd apologize, but I know how much you hate liars." Lee dropped down into the place set for him. He took a bite of the meat on his plate. "Hm. Still warm."

He was sitting right next to his father, something he hadn't done in what felt like years. Lee would have hurried through the meal, but he didn't doubt that Lex would make him sit and wait for him to finish. Lex Luthor was the slowest eater Lee had ever come upon.

"So where were you?" Lex asked, making it— like everything he said— sound like an accusation.

"Coffee shop in town," Lee said, trying to keep his voice casual. Best never to let his father know what he was interested in. He learned that lesson two years before, in a startlingly painful way.

"The Talon?" Lex asked.

Lee furrowed his brow, thought about it for a second, then said, "Yeah. That's it. Cheesy Egyptian décor, bad coffee… The muffins, though, were excellent." He threw a smile at his dad, as if to say, 'See, Dad, I can play along with this charade.'

Lex smiled back. "The muffins always were the best part of that place."

"Not the help?" Lee asked sarcastically, then realized his mistake and backpedaled. "This little blond waitress knocked a tray of coffee onto the guy at the table across from me. The owner should look into getting better help." He said the last as a probe, wondering if LexCorp still owned it.

"He should at that," was all Lex said, and Lee wasn't surprised that he didn't let anything slip. He'd have to find out some other way. "Have you seen your new little friend?"

"What, the one you want me to stay away from?" Lee replied. "Of course I have. You don't want me to. It's reason enough."

Lex laughed. "I never thought I'd see the day when friendship with a Kent was rebellion."

"Used to be the other way around, huh, Dad?"

"Hm?" Lex asked, sipping his wine.

"I know you went to see Clark Kent yesterday. Conner mentioned it. Why do I get the feeling that you don't want me poking around the Kents for more than just the well being of my _feelings_?"

"Rebellion is no basis for friendship, Julian."

"Because you're the expert on friendships?"

"Hardly. Everyone I've ever trusted has betrayed m."

"What, like Mom?" He didn't mean to say it, but he'd always had trouble controlling his emotions— and his mouth.

"Is that what this is all about, Julian? Your visit to the Talon, your friendship with Conner Kent? It's all about Lana?"

"No, Dad, it's about me. Is it so bad that I want to know something about my past? She disappeared when I was a kid and I didn't see her for twelve years! And then she…" He trailed off, stopping himself before he said anything else. "And I still don't know anything. You lock up Lana Luthor in this metaphorical vault and I want to know _why_." He stood up as he was speaking, backing away from the table with his hands clenched into fists.

Lex put his fork down, carefully, and stood as well. "Julian. Lee, I'm going to tell you this once. Stop digging. You won't like the consequences."

"I won't like them, Dad?" Lee asked, looking straight into his father's eyes. "Or you won't?"

Lex smiled, coolly, and turned away. "I've lost my appetite. See you in the morning, Julian."

Lee sat back down at the table, jabbed his fork through the little mountain of polenta until it collapsed, the short rib atop it tumbling down to the surface of the china. Then he took a bite of it and tried to think logically, like the scientist his teachers had tried to make him into once they knew that his father was _the_ Lex Luthor.

In the three days since coming to Smallville, his father had issued two directives that had nothing to do with "staying out of trouble." One was to stop investigating his mother's past. Lex must have known that he wasn't looking into Lana's activities right before her death; therefore whatever Lex didn't want him to know must have had to do with something long past.

The second was to stay away from Conner Kent.

Lee stabbed a spear of asparagus and chewed it thoughtfully. His father did nothing without reason. Conner Kent, raised on a farm, had done nothing himself to make Lex angry or suspicious. Unless his father just didn't want him to have friends— which was a theory that could not be dismissed out-of-hand— or Lex was genuinely worried about his son's feelings— which was laughable— it wasn't Conner that Lex wanted Lee to stay away from. It was Clark.

Clark and Lana had dated.

Lee tilted his head, closed his eyes, and pictured Conner.

And then he smiled.


	7. Chapter Six

A/N: There is a guy in one of my history classes who looks exactly like Conner looks in my head. Just sharing. All pairings and parentage will be addressed before the end of the story. Promise. There are more hints in this one toward both issues. Thanks for the reviews, guys! On to the story.

Chapter Six

Conner was surprised that he Lee didn't show up the day after their yearbook discoveries. When he did show up, it was three days later. He tapped at the screen door with a grin and asked, "Is this a bad time?"

Conner hopped off his chair, leaving his history forgotten on the table, and opened the door for Lee to come in. "Lee. What's up?"

"School," Lee said, and it was such a common place answer that Conner almost thought he was lying. "My dad signed me up for some online classes through Met U, in addition to the tutor. I think he's trying to keep me out of trouble."

"What trouble could you possibly get in? This is _Smallville_."

Lee grinned, and that strange gleam in his eye was back. "I waned to thank you. For the other day."

"No problem. Look, Lee—"

"I'm glad you didn't get into trouble with your father."

"If he knew we'd looked through his stuff…" Conner trailed off, but smiled. He leaned against the stove, fingers tapping against the painted metal of the stovetop.

"I appreciate your help with my mom. I've never had anyone who would risk my father's ire to help me."

Conner hadn't even thought about that, but he shrugged. "I understand wanting to know where you come from."

Lee sat down at the table and steepled his fingers. "Where do _you_ come from, Conner?" Conner felt a flash of panic, because although _he_ had been born in Kansas, his father hadn't. But Lee went on before Conner's panic overtook him. "I don't remember you ever saying anything about your mother."

"I don't know her. I mean, I know _about_ her, but…" Conner sighed. He'd never talked about his mother, never had anyone to talk to, except his father. But Lee was looking at him like he was the only person in the world, and it made it easier to speak. "She and my father weren't married. They had a… thing." Conner blushed. Lee nodded and waited for him to continue. "She worked with him at the Daily Planet. Didn't want a kid getting in the way of her career."

"You know her name?" Lee asked.

"It's not on my birth certificate," he said. Lee must have caught the dodge, but he didn't press. It might have been because of that that Conner continued. "My dad never told me. And I don't need to know."

"Are you sure?" Lee asked, cocking his head. Conner let out a deep breath. He didn't answer, and Lee stood up. "I have to go. I just stopped by on my way to Metropolis."

"I thought your dad—"

"I can't spend all week in Smallville without a break! It's Saturday night." Lee slid on a pair of sunglasses, even though outside, the sun was setting. "I've got a date."

"What did you mean when you said your dad killed your mother?"

Lee looked surprised by the outburst. "I shouldn't have said that."

"So it's not true?"

"Oh, it's true. But I never should have said it. As my father says, Luthor family secrets belong buried with our dead."

"What happened?"

Lee ducked his head. Despite the reluctance his body language screamed, he said, "Another time, Conner."

"Must be an important date."

Lee grinned. "I'll give you details later."

Conner didn't understand how Lee could turn it off and on like he did. One moment, he was trapped in a graveyard of secrets and dead mothers, the next he was all smiles about a hot date. But Conner decided to play along. "I'll expect details."

"Aww…" Lee said, and reached out to ruffle Conner's hair. "I always wanted a little brother."

Conner laughed and his eyes followed Lee out the door. _A brother_, he thought, and picked up his pencil again.

* * *

On his way from the east field to the barn, Clark had seen the tail end of Lee Luthor's car pulling out onto the road. He couldn't stop the frown that crossed his face, and he wasn't really sure whether to be pleased or saddened that he understood exactly how his own father had felt every time Lex had come calling in those expensive cars and with his dangerous past and even worse future. Clark liked to think that he and Lex had truly been friends once, that when Lex said they were going to be the stuff of legends he'd really meant as friends. But it was pointless to wonder. He was Clark Kent, organic farmer in a dying town. He was no one's legend.

He thought about heading into the house to talk to his son, but Conner was always withdrawn after Lee visited, like the older boy gave him a lot to think about. Like Lana's death. Clark glowered at bales of hay as he stormed into the barn. Lee would have to bring up Lana's death. Damn him.

Clark climbed up the stairs to his loft, the only Fortress of Solitude he went to anymore, and sat down on the couch. For the second time that week, he reached down and pulled out his box. He sifted through the thin papers gently.

Life would be easier if he could just forbid Clark from seeing Julian Luthor. Life would have been easier if Lex had just gone to prison fourteen years before. Life would have been easier if he'd never pulled Lex from his car that day on the bridge…

But that was one decision he could never regret making, no matter what it had cost him in the end.

* * *

_Metropolis- June 18th, 2009_

_Chloe was at the Daily Planet, which was where he was supposed to have been at nine o'clock. Instead, he had been with the Justice League, and was an hour late to work. That was what Chloe was in the middle of telling him when he dropped the plastic carton onto her desk and said, "You want that Pulitzer?" _

_It was as good an opening line as any. Chloe blinked, cocked her head, and said, "Huh?" _

_It quieted her down enough so that he could explain. When he was done filling Chloe in on the contents of the carton and his visit from his costumed friends that morning, she was gaping. _

"_And you're sure about this?" _

_Clark laughed because it was exactly what he had said to the JLA when they'd approached him. "I'm sure. They're sure." _

_Chloe stared at him with suspicious eyes. "Clark, Lex has cleaned up his act. There hasn't even been the hint of impropriety since his son was born." _

_"Maybe so, but you and I both know that Lex can never change."_

" _I want to bring Lex down more than anyone. You know that. But… There's a reason we've never done it." _

_"Yeah, there is. We've never had the proof. Chloe, this is the proof. It's all airtight." Clark held up a report from one of the folders. "Human cloning, Chloe. I can't believe we didn't see it before, didn't find it before. He's been working on this project for years— Project Ares. He's making super soldiers, with the help of the US government." _

_She gave him a skeptical look. "Clark, this sounds like fodder for the Inquisitor." _

_"You know, Chloe, it says something that right now, I miss Lois." _

_"Yeah, well, Lois is in Washington covering the debates about those weapons contracts, so you're stuck with little ol' me." Chloe paused. She reached out and put a gentle hand on Clark's arm. "If this is about Lana… Clark, I know when she went back to him—"_

_"No! This is about bringing Lex down! Something we should have done a long time ago." _

_Chloe bit her lower lip, then grabbed the same folder Clark had showed her. "Okay. What's the plan?" _

_"I think I just outlined the plan." _

_"Take Lex down? Clark, that's not exactly strategically detailed." She reached into the plastic carton. "There's so much here…" _

_"The Justice League is breaking into the lab at the dam at six AM. The morning goes out simultaneously, so the cops should get the bad guys just as the public gets the news." _

_"They're going in there? Lex has Kryptonite; what is Kara—"_

_"There's more of them than just Kara. Oliver wouldn't outright say so, but I think they're calling in some help from, uh, you know… Gotham." _

_Chloe whistled. "Big operation. Why now?" _

_Clark looked away from her probing eyes. "They didn't tell me. But I trust Oliver." _

_Chloe looked over at the clock. "Well, it's ten AM now. We better get to work." _


End file.
